


Amber Prelude

by Heron_Angel



Series: Guild Stories [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23387893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heron_Angel/pseuds/Heron_Angel
Series: Guild Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682224
Kudos: 1





	1. Amber

At the center of every continent, allegiance to all and yet to none, and secluded at the top of the centermost mountain lie the stronghold of the noble Sol Order. The Sol Order was a reclusive organization, depending on the resources from all cooperating countries to help supply it’s academy of highly trained warriors. The Sol Order was founded on the heels of a great evil being sealed away, that evil promising a return some time in the future to claim its sovereignty over the land. Many years had passed since the great evil was defeated and the Sol Order had dedicated its existence, and the lives of its soldiers, to rooting out corruption wherever it arose.

In an effort to keep relations with their benefactors in good standing, the Sol Order occasionally assigned emissaries to various lands, pledging their services to the royalty and serving as the vanguard for more serious corrupting threats. These emissaries were highly trained and capable in the Order’s mastery of light magic, serving as dark art’s specialists for their assigned lands and, should their expertise allow it, overall retainers of justice.

Such was the task of Amber, an emissary of the Sol order assigned to the lowland town of Bonnifant. Her presence in the town was a boost of morale to those who saw her, for the town was unsure if the order even acknowledged their contributions. The Cleric had rid the town of a few local nuisances and was fresh off the repelling of a small uprising of dark forces led by one old demon worshipper. In a few short weeks, the Cleric had become a local celebrity of sorts and the local politicians were beginning talks about the institution of a guild where a party of brave champions could be rallied to aid the Cleric in her quests.

Amber carried herself with pride but she was far from unapproachable as her constant visits to town proved. The envy of many with her fiery tinged hair and warm personality, Amber now found herself in the middle of town square staring down a hand drawn banner of herself for sale.

“Jeez…” she whispered to herself, eying the attention to detail. “Humility and service, just doing my job… they didn’t tell me I’d be getting worshipped.” She looked around the bustling square, rubbing her arm nervously. Despite being a proud leader and member of her Order: Amber wasn’t used to this level of attention. Sure, a thank you was nice but banners, consistent fan attention and borderline worship were aspects she wasn’t trained to handle, she longed for the days where she could visit the academy’s zen garden and be alone with her thoughts or a book, now everyone seemed to know where she lived, she was constantly sought after, and with the guild proposals gaining traction: she was about to have a lot more perilous work on her hands.

Work, at least, was something she could lose herself in. Ignoring her parchment doppelganger, Amber touted her staff and followed the now familiar road toward the town barracks, the first responders for any town related issues and, as of recently, the place Amber was now to receive her assignments now that the King was wrapped up in guild construction and supporting the champion recruitment bills. Amber made her way into the barracks, greeting the quartermaster with a wave, he responded with a large smile, knowing better than to call to attention to the rest of the barracks that the Sol Order Cleric was around. There was a pleasant aroma this time around, the smell of well-seasoned meat permeating the barracks as the good cook was on duty today, humorously still garbed in full armor with an apron over it.

“Sure hope you’ll save some for me.” She said quietly, the quartermaster shooting her a thumbs up and a wink, signaling he’d honor her request. “So what’s my summons this time?”

The quartermaster looked over a small parchment next to him, heavily detailed with tasks that needed doing.

“The town’s had reports of an advancing bandit party moving into our roads jurisdiction, people have reported robberies and such on the main roads leading to town.”

“Sounds serious…” replied Amber, feeling a determination build.

“and also incomplete, we’ve no idea the numbers or the leadership they have. If the bandits are passing through from the neighboring countries new border law, then a few patrols may be all the protection we need to stop a few in transit bandits from making a quick score.”

“and if it’s not just a small party...?”

“I’ve seen that look before.” He said with a chuckle. “Listen: we’d much rather have you on escort duty for this caravan heading out, it’ll be-”

“With all due respect, my duty here is to protect, and I can’t move in the safety of this caravan, cowering behind knights and riders, when a serious bandit threat could be looming just outside the city…”

“The caravan is an important target to protect too, we’ll be sending veterans and newly appointed knights as well to protect it from attack. Look if you’re serious about this bandit thing, then I can only approve you for a scouting mission, getting us more information on them so that we can properly respond to the threat, but that’s ALL I can give you, by no means are you to engage that force, no matter how small it appears to be.”

“I understand the importance of your caravan, but it sounds like you have things handled with the knights…”

“You don’t understand Amber, we have all available personnel on this escort, whoever’s not guarding the king, skeleton crewing the town or otherwise patrolling is going on that caravan escort: I don’t have any knights to reassign you and your scouting mission.”

Amber was just about to reassure that there was no need before a voice chimed in from behind the quartermaster. A knight with shiny armor carrying bags of flour for the cook chimed in, pushing in next to the quartermaster in his window and half setting his load on the desk.

“I could accompany the…” he looked over at Amber, his eyes widening slightly as he gawked. “Miss… Cleric. The Cleric. They’re going to have me riding caravan carts anyways due to the… erm… incident.”

The quartermaster saw his opportunity to embarrass the new knight in front of his new crush. “Oh, you mean the fact that you slipped off your horse and rode with one shoe in the stirrup during the parade? Honestly, how you made knight is beyond me.”

“It’s a scouting mission right? That means I don’t need to ride out for it.”

“That is none of your concern, knight. Now take those ingredients over…”

“It’s okay.” Said Amber with a small smile. “Let him come, if he failed his riding portion but still made knight: that means he must have other talents, yes?”

“Well yes, but…”

“Yes, ma’am! Miss..! I can fight and follow orders! I swear I won’t slow you down!”

Amber gestured to the quartermaster, her gentle demeanor softening his heart before he finally caved.

“Alright, alright. Sheesh. You’re escorting the town’s very own Sol Order Cleric, Greyson: either both of you come back or neither of you come back, understood?”

“Yes sir!” Greyson saluted, picking up the bag from the desk and hefting it over his shoulder.

“You won’t be disappointed, Miss Cleric.”

“Amber, and you’d best give it your all.”

Sticking to the seclusion of the forest, just beside the main road, Amber and her companion Greyson set out to investigate the rumored bandit forces harassing the road. Greyson was toting the majority of the supplies, Amber and her staff leading the way as they searched for any signs of activity or ambushes set up along the road. Times were growing increasingly frustrating though when no signs of illicit activity were showing up, the caravan mission seemingly exciting by comparison as the two ventured further from town. Despite the report of his inability to ride a horse: Greyson was proving to be a capable follower, his knowledge of the roads and lands were essential to Amber as daybreak ended and night began to fall. Night marked the end of their travels, the roads too dangerous to risk moving out in the open as the two set up to camp for the night. Amber was beginning to get a sense of shame as the first day unfolded with little to no event, her insistence on dealing with this threat of unknown proportion dragging a seemingly good knight off duty. She was tired from the day long vigilance and the road back would certainly be as exhausting as the initial excursion.

“Greyson… I’m sorry, I fully expected there to be a-” a noise caught Amber’s attention, her ears perking at the faint sound of movement from somewhere in the darkness. The cutoff sentence was enough to alert Greyson, who had his hand on his hip, ready to draw his sword as he scanned around in the darkness. Amber understood what the noises were, and so she waited until the noises were right on top of her before summoning her magical strength, channeling into her staff and releasing a pulse of light in the small camp, illuminating the four shadowy figures and blinding them as swords were unsheathed and combat began.

Amber immediately summoned her magic anew and cast a fire spell at the nearest bandit she could see, his hands over his face as he had been blinded by the flash. Her spell struck home, sending him careening onto his back. Greyson had also been briefly stunned by the flash, but his sight returned quickly as he unsheathed his sword and quickly dispatched a still disabled bandit, running him through with his blade and immediately crossing swords with another, the lasting flash of light magic illuminating their battle as the final bandit came from Amber’s blindside, swinging a knife at her which she deftly dodged with a step back, bringing her staff up and striking him in retaliation. He grunted, charging forward with the intent to stab before Amber adjusted her stance and brought the top of the staff over his head, bashing him into the ground face first and unconscious. A passing groan was heard in the aftermath of the scuffle, Amber turning to see Greyson standing over the corpse of his defeated foe, clutching his chest as Amber quickly came over to him.

“Are you hurt?”

“Lucky shot, cut right through and hurt me bad…” he said, kneeling down now, his breathing haggard and pained.

“Okay, okay, easy. Deep breaths.” Said Amber in a soothing voice, her hands fiddling with the ties to his armor as she removed the plate to reveal the wound underneath. The cut was deep but not untreatable as she flexed her fingers a bit, closing her eyes and focusing her power as her hands began to glow green. She pressed the glowing hand to Greyson’s chest, an honest groan of discomfort coming from him as she spoke during her concentration in a motherly tone.

“I know, I know… Just a little more.”

After a few moments: Amber’s hands lost their glow, her eyes opening slowly to reveal the still bloodied, but now mended, wound on the knight’s chest. She pulled her hand away, also covered in dried blood, before patting the knight’s shoulder plate with her free hand.

“My god that’s amazing…” he said with a weak tone.

“It’s still going to be sore, but…”

“But nothing, thank you miss… Amber. Thank you, Amber.”

There was a brief moment of tenderness between the two comrades, having survived the attack, and a bond was starting to develop over the near death experience. The adrenaline, however, was wearing off and Amber felt the weight of the conflict bear down on her weary spirit, so much that Greyson had to shake her slightly to keep her awake.

“That takes a lot out of you, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, get some sleep. I’ll clean up and keep watch, it’s the least I can do.”

Amber had not the strength to argue, barely able to move herself over to her messy sleeping cover and almost immediately passing out. There would be plenty of time to assess tomorrow.

The following day gave way to a dim morning light. There was a somewhat pleasant smell in the air as Amber felt her eyes slowly droop open, seeing a small plume of smoke indicate the presence of a fire as she surmised that Greyson must’ve been cooking. She yawned, going to pick herself up and suddenly realizing something was very wrong. It took Amber several struggles to realize she had been restrained, thick rope binding her wrists behind her back. She quickly threw herself up, looking at the campfire to see several bandits surrounding the fire, with Greyson situated in the middle. The group turned, Greyson meeting Amber’s betrayed gaze as he avoided making eye contact.

“Don’t look at me like that… I was an infiltrator for the group, okay?”

Amber’s heart sank, infiltrators were risky business in the realm of knighthood, they often required careful planning and an individual with a clean record to pull off. They were most certainly long time investments, their cover blown after a single job which was usually kept in reserve for a sizable score. Amber now knew that the bandits that had migrated to this area were large in number and extremely organized, it was too bad none of that information would return to the city as the bandits had cashed out their investment on her capture.

“Lot of loyalty for your boys last night…” she said sharply.

“Not ours…” replied Greyson, still avoiding her gaze. “I’m-”

“Well, look who’s awake!” said one of the bandits, butting into the conversation as the group of five stood up.

“Come on guys, don’t hurt her!”

“Oh, we wouldn’t hurt a servant of the high and mighty Sol Order!”

The men advanced on Amber, surrounding her before she could scramble to her feet to defend herself, not that that was too likely with her hands bound how they were. She would find that the endeavor would have been fruitless anyhow, the bandit roughly pulling her up to her knees and revealing to her that her ankles had also been bound up, effectively immobilizing all her limbs. She looked up in defiance at the men, struggling against her restraints to try and free herself, if only a little, to attack.

“Go on, scream for help miss Order.” Said the bandit with a smile. Amber choosing not to give him the satisfaction as she struggled some more. “Fine little servant you brought us Greyson! Those Sol Order monasteries must be a hell of a show if they all look like this!”

“Come on guys. Just… go easy. Don’t hurt her, she saved my life.”

“Is that so? Well then we oughta treat her real good then for her service, shouldn’t we boys?”

Amber felt a presence creep up behind her, a bandit dropping down to his knees and pulling her close, groping her through her clothes. Amber struggled, squeaking in surprise as she was roughly grabbed.

“Ah..! G..get off!”

“Guys, come on..!”

Wicked laughter deafened the protests for mercy, Amber struggling wildly against the bandit as his rough hands squeezed and groped at her. She thrashed back but she was easily handled in her restrained state. She had just began to work up a sweat from the struggle before the bandit gripped her clothes in his firm hands and pulled. The sound of ripping fabric was heard as Amber watched her top rip open, revealing the skin and bra underneath to the delight of her captors. She blushed, wriggling around in defiance as the bandit eagerly flipped her bra up, exposing her breasts. He immediately captured her nipples, pulling hard as he cradled her breasts, his head dipping over her shoulder to kiss and suck at her neck.

Amber winced, struggling against the bandit that wouldn’t let up on her. Cheered on by his associates, his sloppy tongue lapped and suckled over her neck, making her shiver from the assault as she felt her nipples perk up in his grip, aroused from the rough teasing as he pulled her close, controlling her for a brief moment as she caught her breath, face streaked with arousal as she turned away, ashamed, only to dart her head back when the bandit sought to pull her into a kiss. Out of breath and caught: Amber held her head in a slight dip, watching his dirty hands grip and tease her supple breasts, teasing her tits and pulling hot breaths from her that granted no reprieve of strength for her to struggle more. Amber felt the pleasure build up inside her, warming every touch against her soft skin and tempting her closer to surrender. The pressure on one of her breasts was relieved, the hand dipping down under her tights and underwear to push up against her pussy. She was thoroughly wet already, a fact the bandit made sure to remind her of as he nibbled at her ear.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Amber didn’t respond, instead choosing to answer with a desperate struggle as his fingers grinded against her sex, stirring her up and getting her even wetter with her own arousal. She couldn’t keep up with the combined pressure, her lips parting slightly as the bandit dipped two fingers into her pussy, stirring her up with steady pumping as she let slip a firm “Ohhh~” encouraged by her moan the bandit asserted more pressure on her, twisting her nipple gently and increasing his pumps into her pussy before his hand crept up from her breast to seize her chin, tipping her panting head towards him and forcing the capture on her lips in her weakened state. The kiss was sloppy and tongue filled, but Amber allowed herself to lose herself in it for just a moment, indulging the desires for what she reasoned would be just a moment while she regained her strength. The bandits fingers could be seen underneath the Cleric’s tights and underwear, pumping away at her dripping sex and making her moan into the sloppy kiss that now dribbled saliva from the two’s union. Amber could feel herself losing to the pleasure, her tongue obediently wrestling with the bandits as her moans escalated.

“Mmph!~ Mmm~ mmm...!” She felt herself tense up, only to shudder hard as the kiss broke just before the edge, leaving her to let out a deep satisfying moan for all to hear as she shook hard into her climax, her pussy tensing around the bandit’s naughty fingers as he pulled away and rubbed her folds in circles, letting her ride out the orgasm with steady teasing, her face a mess of ecstasy as she moaned from the teasing to her sensitive folds.

“Damn, I can’t wait to get some of that…” said one of the bandits, his hands going to his belt as he prepared to take his friends place, only to be stopped by the others.

“Plenty of time for that later, if we stay here: we risk being caught by a search party looking for their precious Cleric. Go on and put the gag on her, I don’t think she’ll be putting up much of a fight anymore.”

Amber’s expression was anything but proper, her eyes drooped, exhausted from the orgasm with her tongue gently hanging from her panting mouth. Greyson watched as the bandit pulled out a ball gag from his side pouch, gently inching it up to her lips and asserting it against her mouth. Amber groaned slightly as it spread her lips, gently occupying it’s space before it was securely fastened on her, almost instinctively testing it with a lewd “Mmmph~”. Properly gagged and restrained, the greedy bandit hoisted the cleric over his shoulder, hefting her snugly as he got a firm grip on her ass before following his leader deeper into the forest.

Greyson followed, seeing the Clerics staff and what was left of her order’s emblem on the ground in tattered pieces.

Game Over


	2. Amber Epilogue

Within the confines of a long forgotten outpost, hidden deep in the recesses of a wilderness forest, an abducted cleric struggled once again to free herself from her shackles. Finally having recovered her senses, Amber tried her best to break free of the simple chains that bound her to the wall, but no matter what she tried: the bindings held firm. Freed from her more complete bondage by her betrayer, Greyson, Amber had not regained her sense long enough to make use of her freedom before the cruel shackles were fastened on her wrists. The bandits that had captured her made sure to not give her any time to rest as she endured a night of teasing, interestingly spared the bandit’s deeper lusting’s each time. Secretly thankful for the mercy, Amber had not pieced together the intent behind it as she sat helplessly in her cell, the bandit whom had thrown her weakened form over his shoulder the day before now entering with a wicked smile on his face.

“If only you could see the look on your face…” he said with a smirk, eying her up as she was leaned up against the wall, legs brought up together with her hands chained uselessly above her head. Her vestments were ripped open from before, exposing her plentiful breasts and erect nipples, the guards before having taken their time sucking and teasing them. An ungraceful trail of saliva connected a loosened ball gag to her lips, a courtesy of those same bandits who wanted to hear her moan. Her expression was tired, her last bit of willpower going to her legs and mouth, doing her best to not let the burning feeling all over her body coax her tongue out to pant like she wanted to. “Bonnefant’s precious Sol Order cleric, coveted and respected, now chained up in my dungeon like a prize from a raid.” He stepped forward, Amber’s legs scooting up more as her face pleaded for mercy, the realization of the other guards’ intent sinking in as she let out a slight whimper.

“Mm…” Despite her resistance, her body ached for more attention, and she could feel the heat push the thought of surrender in her mind.

“I’m sure they’re all running themselves ragged looking for you. I wonder how long until they get the order involved?”

“They’ll find me…” said Amber, a burst of hope welling up in her at the mere mention of her order.

“I’m not so sure they will, cutie. You see with Greyson reporting your unfortunate compliance with brigands in exchange for his life: we’ll know everywhere they’ll be looking.” Amber’s heart sank, her fingers going from tense to helpless as she began to realize her fate. “You’ll be long gone by then. Don’t worry though, I’ll be here to keep you company until we figure out what to do with a Sol Order Cleric. I’ve heard there’s some particular orders out there that will pay a good price for someone like you.” His hand came down as he closed the distance, cupping her chin as he stood over her. “Hell, I know a few places that’ll pay a good price in general for a girl like you.”

Amber turned her head, eluding the grasp of the bandit. She was starting to catch her breath, her body slipping the hold of arousal a little at a time as she prepared to speak again. Words of defiance, practiced thrice in her head, were suddenly halted by an all too familiar feeling as she stuttered.

“You’ll n- uhaa..!” she tensed up, the bandit having knelt down and captured her nipple between his rough lips, his other hand groping and squeezing her other tit as his free hand pushed her back away from the wall, pulling her closer to him as she wriggled around, the arousal returning with a fiery vengeance as she squeaked. “Uwah!~” she moaned, shuddering as his tongue danced around her nipple and tugged, chains rattling as she squirmed.

“How cute, a heroic speech interrupted by lusty little moans. I knew you were hot, but I didn’t think you’d be this hot!” his lips pulled away, replaced by his hands both toying with her breasts as her back touched the wall again. He watched her face struggle with the feeling, her legs shuffling as her tongue dipped forward and then retracted into her slightly open mouth, his fingers teasing hard as she worked to resist him. “Still have some fight? Good… it’ll make your surrender that much sweeter.”

Amber avoided his gaze, her body awash with arousal as each pass over her perky pinky tits sent a wave of hot pleasure through her. Her resistance paid off as she closed her mouth, lips curling inwards before the teasing stopped, the bandit content to squeeze and grope her as he moved away from her much more sensitive tits. Amber immediately released a held breath, panting harder than when he had arrived as he chuckled at her.

“You’re all mine…” he said in a soft tone, a hand coming over her head and petting her, the feeling sending mixed emotions through her as his petting hid the intention of his other hand, the brief lapse in her defense allowing him to slip between her legs.

“Aah..!” Amber felt his hand push up against her folds, her panties soaked through with her excitement as she turned her head in embarrassment, her not so secret arousal fully felt and pushed deeper into her shame with his small noises of approval.

“But not this hot…” repeated the bandit, his fingers pushing aside the soaked cloth and digging against her sopping folds harder, small circles making Amber pant faster, her legs spreading gently to allow him more room, only to shakily close again from her resistance. It was all for naught though, as his fingers turned and slipped inside her, his thumb pressing her clit as his fingers curled upwards.

“Uhaaaaaaaa~” Moaned Amber, her hips gently lifting off the ground for a moment as she squirmed, feeling him slowly finger her. The bandit took advantage of her weakness, his hand cupping her chin and pulling her to face him as he snuck in like before and captured her lips. He continued to finger the cleric at a steady pace, keeping his thumb primed to rib her some more if he felt her backing off as she allowed herself to be lost in the kiss. Sloppy sounds erupted from both their unions, soft moans echoing into the kiss as the bandit had to back off gently just to allow her to breathe. So lost was she in the kiss that she hardly even realized when he pulled away, his fingers slipping gently from her pussy and lips parting with a loud smooch. Amber leaned up against the wall with her tongue panting hard out of her mouth, as if still involved in the sloppy kiss she had briefly lost herself to.

The weakness was all the sign he needed, for by the time Amber had regained her sense: she could feel a pair of strong arms grip her thighs and easily spread her shivering legs.

“Aah…” she groaned, looking down with drooped eyes as the bandit spread her, his head poised above her waist as he asserted his grip more, the weakened cleric not even squirming to fight back as she realized she had been bested.

He wasted little time, only pausing to make sure eye contact was made, as he dipped his head down and captured her clit, sucking firm and grinding his tongue against her folds, making Amber shake with the firm shock of pleasure, her head dipping back gently as she let out a hard moan.

“Ohhh~” her tongue dipped unchecked out of her mouth, her face growing more lewd by the moment as she was pushed to the edge. She could feel the opening attack give way to a much more thorough attack at her pussy, his tongue swirling around as she naturally wriggled and writhed to the feeling of his hot tongue darting around inside her. Her legs fought against his grip, but the token struggle was only so she could feel his strength assert her to spread anew, his tongue lapping up her lewd juices as eagerly as they flowed, making her moan with each pass of that slimy tongue.

“Huaaa… aaah~” too horny to fight: Amber could feel herself succumb to the pleasure, her moans escalating to a peak as her pride dissipated with each uncontested moan. The bandit grunted softly, reveling in her noises before he again pulled away, leaving her just short. Her pride sapped and body tense, Amber’s core pushed hard, a whimpering moan accompanying the action as she pushed her hips towards his retreating lips. The bandit, amused, granted her request as he gripped her tight. “Don’t you hold back, pet.” He said hungrily as he dipped down again capturing her clit and sucking hard, his tongue swirling over her little joy buzzer as she let out a low but powerful moan.

“Uhuaaaaaaaaa~!!” She obeyed, without question, letting go and squirting her pent up lust against his tongue as he tried to lap up as much as he could. Her orgasm sapped everything from her, the thought of rescue slipping from her mind in exchange for this mind blowing pleasure.

Amber could barely feel the bandit release her. She lay there, content to have her legs spread as they were as they shivered with her stomach from the experience. She stared at the mess she had made, her mind a haze of satisfaction that clouded her mind so much that she didn’t quite register the feeling of her head being turned slightly, or the throbbing member placed before her outstretched tongue.

“Be a good girl.” Said the bandit, gently coaxing Amber’s mouth forward with his hand placed at the back of her head. Amber obeyed, wanting to be a good girl after all, and looked up at him with big submissive eyes as she took his cock into her mouth, pursing her lips around him as he pushed in, ending with a satisfied huff of her slimy lips and mouth.

“Gmmph…” moaned Amber, her master’s hand petting her gently as he guided her head to suck him off.

“That’s a good pet.” Her master cooed, loving the look of her big submissive eyes, eager to please him, second only to her lovely lips pursed around his cock. Her tongue began to swirl around his length, coating him in slimy saliva as she did her best to pump her head on him, his groans of approval encouraging her before he pulled out with a huff, his cock slipping from her hot little mouth, holding her away for just a moment as he caught his breath. His reprieve was interrupted though by a firm lick, her tongue deftly lapping out and licking the underside of his cock. “Aah… Damn it, you’re really devoted aren’t you, you little minx?” He pushed her away slightly, his other hand coming up and stroking his cock as he leveraged his grip to get Amber to tilt her head upwards. Her mouth was open, tongue lapped out to receive her prize as he came over her face and perky tits. A thick shot of cum covered her face, a hot trail slipping on and past her lips. A grunt of approval came from her master as further ropes fell upon her ample breasts, gliding down over her soft skin as he pulled away, satisfied. 

Amber relaxed now, leaning harder against the wall as she caught her breath. She cooed happily to herself, licking her lips as she panted. Her new master backed away, looking over his newest pet. Tomorrow they would be moving her to a new keep, deeper in their owned territory, but in truth, the need for such a thing seemed superfluous now. Given the look on the once noble Sol Order Cleric’s face: she wouldn’t go even if they did come for her.

-Game Over-


	3. The Oscura Order

Rolling hills and lush landscapes were a bit of a change of pace from the Sol order’s mountain based academy. Tall peaks, barely tamed cliffs and the occasional overlook were now replaced with sun kissed hills and wind swept fields, giving sight for miles if the individual was tenacious enough to conquer a slight incline. Out on this gentle landscape travelled a swordsman, armor adorned with a crest that garnered respect wherever he were to go. The crest itself felt more impressive than the man, at least it did to him, as he adjusted the heavy shield on his back and made his way to the top of one of the many hills, his journey on this trail a tedium of ascents and descents. There was little to complain about though, as the weather retained its constant warmth, and besides, even if the order had provided him with a horse it wasn’t like he had ever been instructed how to ride one. 

The Sol Order Knight had taken the time away from his assignment, leaving his partner in charge of requests, to get some much needed alone time. The town was, unfortunately, a hot zone for conflict between its residents and unholy forces, so the order had deemed it necessary to send a knight, along with a cleric, to fulfill the responsibility of protecting this major mining town. The knight had been looking forward to his assignment, expecting to be making a real difference in the town, but the last few months of his service had been nothing but patching up defenses and waiting for conflict to arise. Solving political disputes on the town’s exports and labor wages was not how he expected to be representing the order.

Some solace could be found in training the local militia, any sort of combat training beat the monotony of dealing with yet another disagreement between work force and foremen. For an order that sent representatives out to ensure peace: the knight found himself wishing for war.

“If only there was a common enemy to hate…” he sighed, watching over the town from the hill. “Then they’d stop wanting to thrash each other and realize the part they play in the bigger picture.” It seemed so simple in his head, the order had given him a purpose and a role to play in a much grander goal of peace, but he very quickly realized his hypocrisy as he found himself longing to not return to town to fulfill that role. “Maybe we all need a little conflict in our lives.” he said to himself with a smile, shaking his head as he took a moment to himself, hearing the wind sift through the fields, accentuating the peaceful moment. The moment, however, was interrupted by voices in the distance, starting faint but undeniably distressed as they clambered over each other much like their sources. The knight turned to see a couple heavily making their way towards him, their cries of distress growing louder as he ran to meet them.

The pair consisted of a woman and, from what it seemed, her husband, both seemingly afflicted with some serious looking wounds. The man was limping, blood clearly visible along his leg, and she herself had slashes across her arm and back that indicated some sort of animal attack, or at least it would have, had the markings not been as large as they were, easily spanning the entirety of her arms and back.

“I’m guessing this wasn’t a wild animal.” he said with a straight face, staring the woman in the eye as she relayed the seriousness of the situation, a look of relief coming over her at the sight of the Sol Order’s emblem.

“Something… horrible. Unholy. Demonic. No matter where we went: it was always there.” She was in shock, but there was something to be said about the woman who still managed to help her injured husband to safety.

“A damned forest spirit!” said the man, groaning with pain as he leaned on his wife. “Angry for all the blasting we did for that damned foreman’s mine!”

The Knight nodded his head, his task loosely outlined enough for him to ignore the political commentary.

“You’ve almost made it to town, not far from here, tell them what you saw and tell them to send help.”

“Y-yes sir! Bless you, Knight.” Said the woman, too in shock to question the authority figure before her as the pair continued to move towards the road.

The knight knew he could alert the town much faster than they could, but whatever this creature was, there was a whole village of people at its mercy. Every second spared could mean another life, so he reasoned his partner would forgive him if he brought the creatures attention on himself while she arrived with the town’s cavalry.

The survivor’s attitude had, inadvertently, given him a pretty good idea of the village under siege, having broken up a dispute there a month ago. Dashing over the hills, the knight reached the village in question in fairly short order, its edifices still standing and blocking his sight from what was transpiring there, assuming it was still happening at all.

Carefully stepping into the village, the knight kept his ears perked for any sounds that could give away his quarry. The usually bustling village had an uneasy silence to it, implying two outcomes of equally terrifying proportion: Either everyone was trying not to make noise, or there was no one left to make it. The silence commanded a reverence, one that the knight dare not break lest he provide his foe with a luxury he was being denied.

The silence was at last broken by a thick and heavy step, the ground crunching beneath the creature’s foot as it revealed itself from behind a building, creeping out to greet the swordsman with a low growl. Its snout shook with its low growling, eyes trained on the new prey as its long, almost human, arms brandished bloodied claws, scraps of a poor villager discarded along the ground as it advanced. The knight shifted his shoulders to equip his shield as he drew his longsword, presenting the bulwark first as he brought his blade from its scabbard to his head.

“Werewolf… forest spirit… close enough.” Shifting nervously, the knight buried his fear, tightening his grip on his shield as he watched the werewolf approach.

“Come on!” he yelled, channeling his courage into his voice and his will into his shield as it glowed powerfully with a holy power, flashing a light at the approaching creature and sending it reeling back, blinded. The knight pressed the opportunity, stepping forward and closing the distance, scoring an overhand slash into the beasts shoulder, missing his neck only barely as the creature recoiled, thrashing it’s claws over the steeled surface of the knight’s shield as he defended himself, blocking the powerful blow at first and then meeting it half way the second time as he slapped aside the creatures claw, following it up with a swift stab to its chest, a firm strike that rung in the nearly silent square as the blade was pulled upwards, ripping through the creature with a fiery enchantment that receded as soon as it was free of it’s flesh. The werewolf staggered, too wounded to strike again, as the knight finished the encounter with a powerful slash across its throat, sending it to the ground in a heap, dead.

“Unholy or not…” said the victor, planting his sword in the ground for a moment as he inspected the body. “You were once human, I hope you find peace.” The order had a strict policy of no remorse for those who would willingly commune with the unholy and demonic, the seeds of corruption needing to be stamped out lest the return of demons threaten humanity as it did before. Still, the knight couldn’t help but feel that in the case of werewolves, their willingness wasn’t really a factor. Seeing the remains of what was once a living being justified the need for the creature’s death, but it didn’t mean he had to be remorseless about it.

The patter of moving debris now caught the knight’s attention as he turned to face what he could only hope were survivors coming out of hiding, but it would seem the months of silence were claiming their dues today as he gripped his sword anew and stood to face a second werewolf, standing on its hind legs with a much more imposing presence than the first.

“Seemingly everywhere, she said.” Murmured the knight, his resolve tested as a third werewolf now snuck its way out from inside a, hopefully, abandoned home. His attention split, the knight adjusted his position, slowly moving so that both foes were in line of sight as the taller and more powerful alpha snarled at the sight of his brother’s killer. The smaller subordinate sunk down on all fours, circling the knight and breaking the careful positioning he had achieved, leaving him at a distinct disadvantage once again.

“Don’t suppose I can ask you to come one at a time?” he said aloud, watching the alpha begin to step in the opposite direction of his subordinate, forcing the knight’s attention to split as he awaited their attack. The subordinate jumped first, and the defender realized that his only hope was to break through one of the creatures in hopes of fighting them from one side. Jumping at the opportunity, he squared his body at the oncoming attack, pushing off powerfully as he met the jumping attack with his shield, feeling the force rip through his body as he managed to repel the strike with a thick sound of impact, knocking the werewolf to the ground as he positioned himself to finish it, but as soon as he made that move, the other was upon him, forcing him to shore up his defenses again as a heavy overhand strike from the alpha nearly sent him to the ground. Scrambling backwards to regain some footing he channeled some power to flash the larger creature, his shield beginning to spark as the alpha reeled it’s heavy hand up, slashing across in a deadly arc as the knight met the strike with a backhand of his own. The shield’s charged energy released, creating a blinding light that sent the alpha, and his strike, back but not before colliding and doing the same to the knight, who cried out in pain as his arm reeled back against his attempted parry, an overwhelming pain engulfing him as he barely found his footing, staying upright as his arm hung uselessly at his side, broken. He screamed again, the weight of the shield exasperating the pain as the alpha tried to regain its senses. The smaller werewolf, now back on its feet, took the opportunity to pounce the debilitated knight, knocking him to the floor and swiftly bringing its fangs down to strike his throat, only to be repelled by a powerful blue aura. The confused creature tried again, being repelled by the aura anew before it tried simply slashing the knights exposed neck, but each contact with his skin was repelled by this aura: acting like some sort of magical armor that allowed the knight to grit through his pain and realize he had been saved. Using what strength he had left, the knight gripped his sword, stabbing it into the werewolf’s side and turning, weakening the creature enough with the pain to kick him off. The pain of his broken arm was still very much present, but he pushed through to find his footing and finish the subordinate with a carefully placed stab.

All that remained now was the alpha, and it seemed that whatever saving magic had been cast upon him had been expended, for the blue aura now left him as he wearily stood before the recovering beast, barely the strength to hold his sword up as it recognized its prey through its now recovered eyesight.

“Don’t suppose… you want to surrender, do you?” said the knight, standing his ground.

The beast raised its arm, but didn’t get much further as it seemed to lose control over itself. The beast shuddered angrily as faint outlines came into view, dark and barely visible entities pouring out from beneath it as it was ensnared, stopping even its massive strength dead. A quiet mumbling came within earshot from behind the weakened knight, the caster of such dark magic whispering a curious apology.

“I’m sorry, for what I must do.” Said the voice, the tendrils tightening on the creature before a sickening snap was heard, the apparitions retreating as a faint aura enveloped the broken werewolf, something being stolen away from it as the magic retreated to the darkness from whence it came.

The threat eliminated, the knight could feel the limits of his strength hit, his relief betraying his will as he felt his legs give way, propping himself only by his good arm on his planted sword as he could barely hear the approach of the caster that had saved his life. Thick rhythmic thumping filled his hears, almost deafening him to the caster’s inquiries.

“…n –ou… me?” said the soft voice, the knight turning his head wearily to finally see who had helped him fend off three of the fiercest creatures he’d ever fought. He expected an arch mage or some high ranking authority, what he got instead was an innocent face, framed by short hair, and a gaze that almost melted his heart with its tenderness. She wore a black garb that extended out into something resembling the sol order’s clerical vestments. Adorned on this garb were various blue symbols, her shoulders protected by shiny silver shoulder plates, her arms and legs encased in a pure white combination of gloves and leggings that screamed holy order of some kind. The knight tried to crack a smile, but he could feel his body betray that command as he felt himself begin to slump over. The little cleric made the cutest looking face of surprise as she tried to keep him up, it would be the last thing he saw before blacking out.

A cool soothing feeling would awaken the knight, his breath returning to him as he was laid on his back. Opening his eyes anew, he could see the cleric watching over him, applying a blue water like aura around him as he felt a slow but steady discomfort settle, primarily on his arm which was shining the most out of everything.

“Welcome back.” Said the cleric, her voice clear but still very soft.

“Welcome back? I didn’t die, did I?”

The cleric’s eyes widened and she blushed, stuttering over her words.

“N-no! I just… you passed out and-”

“I’m not a zombie, am I?”

“Wh-what?! NO!”

His fun had, the knight lifted his good arm, dismissing the conversation with a flick of the wrist and a shake of his head. “Relax, I’m thankful. Might’ve had to bring me back if you’d have let those things have their way.”

“Taking on just one of those things is suicidal enough, I’m just glad I found you in time.”

“It’s a neat school of magic you’ve got going on here… ngh.”

“Please don’t move your arm yet. It may not be fast, but at least it’s effective. It’ll be a little sore. I’m sorry, but I can’t help that…”

“Beats a broken arm.”

“Shattered is a better term.”

“And you’re just putting it all back together, honestly I was never comfortable with healing magic, but I am thankful it exists.”

“Like I said, it’s not as fast as your Sol order clerics learn, but it requires a lot less energy.”

“So you know the curriculum. I’m guessing you didn’t exactly fit in with your little shadow friends.”

“Oh, you remember that…”

“I’m not scared, just confused. You’re healing me like a cleric, helping me like a cleric, but your magic is far from what I would call holy. Mind explaining your colors?”

There was a pause, the cleric stopping her healing process for a moment as she pondered her next words carefully.

“These are the colors of the Oscura order.” She said softly, resuming her healing.

“Never heard of you.”

“You wouldn’t have, we don’t usually make our presence known.”

“With dark magic like that, I can see why. You can’t really expect someone to consider you a holy order when you steal a werewolf’s soul like that.

“Only its life essence, I assure you. It is a necessary evil to control the shadow magic.”

“Sounds like a holy practice.”

“I’m just trying to help!”

“Relax,” the knight raised his hand anew, setting it down slowly as if to disarm the situation. “Out of all the sol order knights you could’ve met, you probably met the one least likely to bite the hand that feeds. I don’t care how you helped, but I have a cleric coming this way with a lot of cavalry that probably will, so give me something I can use to explain you, because she certainly won’t want to hear it from your mouth.”

“It’s really not that complicated.” Said the cleric, focusing her attention entirely on the injured arm. “The light cannot exist without the shadow, to deny one is to deny the other. What people would call unholy is simply something they do not understand. The Oscura order has but one goal: to aid your Sol order in defeating the demons that threaten to return. To do this: we educate ourselves on what you fear to touch, for we believe the denial of the shadow is the source of all conflict.” The glow on the knight’s arm receded, the cleric carefully bending it to show its range of movement had been restored. “We share a common goal. In order for humanity to survive the Sol order must not fail, if my order has to make the sacrifices for that to happen, then we will gladly die in obscurity to protect our people. We can die branded as traitors and heretics, so long as there’s someone left to say it.”

“Sounds lonely.” Said the knight, moving his arm of his own accord again, fascinated by the difference from only a few hours ago. It was only after he had moved his arm about that he noticed the small crowd of people circling the pair, tending to their own business, but huddled around their saviors like their sanity depended on it. There were many wounded, but for the most part: it seemed like many of them would live given the cleric’s attention. “Well I know the order.” He said, struggling to stand up. “They see anything remotely deemed unholy and they’ll hunt you down, and this is a transgression you don’t deserve to die for.”

The cleric looked up at him with confusion, her outstretched arms showing how much trust she had in him being able to keep his balance. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to play lookout, there’s a lot of people here that need the healing water you have and not a lot of time. The order’s cleric can take care of that, but until then, you do what you can. Soon as I see the cavalry coming I’ll send word back to you, and when they get here they better not find you, understand?”

“…I think so.”

“Good. You don’t seem the type to walk away when there’s people in need.”

“I think I could say the same thing about you.”

“No more talking, help these people, as much as you can.”

The Sol Order cleric was not far behind, the little time allotted hopefully enough for the cleric to do some work before the knight sent word of the cavalry. The militia secured the village, taking some of the remaining wounded back to town with them while the cleric got to healing those who couldn’t wait. Despite the attack of three werewolves, she was surprised to see that so few had been mortally wounded. She, of course, chastised the knight for his recklessness, but she couldn’t deny that his quick response may have saved the lives of many people. The villagers resounded with the story of the brave Sol Order knight whom had bested the werewolves single handedly, praises sung to the order for sending such stalwart protectors. The stories, much like the town when the cavalry arrived, were devoid of any mention of the Oscura cleric, a fact that frustrated the knight to no end. One day, hopefully soon, the deeds of such an altruistic order could share in the praise he was receiving, but for now: both knight and cleric were content to have lived to fight another day.


	4. Rescuing Faye

Cold silence fell over the lone prisoner, her eyes drooped and tired from the struggle and abuses she’d had to endure. The bandits didn’t dare harm her, lest they lose the captive graces of their one-sided agreement. Stripped of her robes, tatters stripping her nearly of all dignity, she pathetically groaned against the thick knotted gag in her mouth as she pulled gently on the rope that bound her wrists above her head. A soft huff escaped her nose, despair flooding over her in the darkness that she used to call safety, feeling the rough hands still teasing at her body, coupled with the bandits promises of what would become of her should she refuse the services she had agreed to.

The captive once again flexed her hands, concentrating any energy she could muster into her attempt to summon in the darkness, but just like every other fruitless attempt: she felt her concentration broken and energy sapped with it, leaving her to lean back on the cold prison wall. Something was stopping her from summoning, but in her captive state, she couldn’t focus long enough to discern what it was. Another repetition of tearless weeping, another spell of creeping despair and yet another cycle of failed summoning marked her existence until the bandits came again to torment her some more. Concept of day and night had been thwarted by a windowless prison, the door her only hint of incoming attention that, at this point, she was starting to dislike less than the long stays of solitude. The poor cleric resurfaced a memory, the nobility of her sacrifice to save the besieged village filled her with a dash of hope, and she silently prayed to whatever God would listen that her sacrifice would at least garner some favor for but the smallest reprieve to her suffering. The Gods, it would seem, were fickle this day though.

A familiar tapping of key to lock, the frustrated turning of a key, and the sound of heavy hands pushing the creaking dungeon door open prompted the cleric to bring her legs up, the only decency left to her in her leotard underwear as she looked wide eyed at the door, hoping to garner sympathy with whomever came through the door. Sympathy usually spared her pain, but not other forms of abuse as she heard a single heavy pair of boots enter the dungeon. One guard usually meant a midnight pass by or a feeding hour, and she was desperately hoping it would be feeding as she could feel the pangs of malnourishment sting at her muscles, her gag wetting with saliva at the thought of being fed something of the bandit’s comparably lavish dinners. Her soft gaze was met by an unfamiliar face, a man clad in too much armor to be considered a bandit stepped into view, watching her pathetic attempt at decency, he approached slowly, opening the door to the cell carefully as she prepared herself for the worst. It was only when he knelt down and caressed her cheek did she recognize the man she had saved from a werewolf attack, a memory that felt so long ago as she let out a stifled cry.

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, loosening the gag and pulling it away from her lips. “I’m not gonna hurt you, do you remember me?”

“Yes…” she nodded happily, a small smile coming over her lips as he brought her close in a small embrace.

“You’re awfully hard to find, you know that?” he said, drawing a dagger from his belt and carefully cutting the rope that held her arms above her head. Her hands fell heavily into her lap, screaming at her in soreness as he now properly brought her close, holding her in a warm embrace which she had not the strength to even consider pulling away from. His hands came behind her head, undoing a wicked feeling collar that had left an imprint on her neck, its removal sent a wave of soreness and strength through her body, one that left her feeling weak again as he held her up.

“I’ve seen these before. They’re for restraining certain types of magic…” said the rescuer, holding the battered cleric close in his arms. “I’m going to get you out of here, but first: is anything broken? Anywhere I should be mindful of? Do you need anything?”

The cleric shook her head, opening her lips to speak and only managing a dry gulp, followed by an equally dry cough.

“Ah… that, at least, I can fix.” Stowing his dagger, the knight brought a canteen up to the cleric’s lips, carefully tipping it so that she could drink. “Sorry if it’s a little warm.”

The water felt like heaven and she savored the gift with a rejuvenated whimper, feeling much like a child in her state as he fed her just a little bit more. “We should go…” she said softly, watching him put his equipment away and bring his cloak off his back, partially wrapping her up in it.

“We have time. Trust me, I don’t think anyone’s going to be bothering you from here again.” The meaning behind his words didn’t register, but he soon had something new for her to focus on. “I’m going to pick you up now. Let me know if anything hurts alright?”

He lifted her up, wrapped up in his cloak and held tight to his chest: there was a sense of security in the bridal style carry as she was greeted by a pale morning light, the last bits of night being chased out by the sun as she focused entirely on her rescuer.

“I’m Mateo.” He said, his steps long and careful as familiar walls passed them by, the concept of being taken away from this place of captivity just barely reaching her mind as she admired his face in the soft sunlight. “We never really got around to names last time we met, but you did leave quite an impression on that village.”  
She remained silent, her soft gaze drifting to something more akin to a weary gaze than the pained one he had found her in.

“You must be tired.” He said softly, his own gaze now meeting hers, her sight just barely seeing his through nearly closed eyes. Perhaps it was for the best that she did not see the trail of destruction Mateo had left in his wake in pursuit of her rescue, but her eyes did perk open for just a moment as she shuffled in his grasp.

“…Faye.” She mumbled.

“What’s that?” Said Mateo, stepping over the beheaded corpse of the first bandit to admit they’d taken a lovely prisoner.

“My name, it’s Faye.” She said more clearly, giving him a soft smile that he was beginning to love.

“Well, Faye.” He said with his own soft smile. “I think this makes us even, don’t it?”


End file.
